28.4.11

El senyor gerent els convida a llegir música




I don't remember my mama
Dad sold crack all night
My life was fucked from the jump street
Now this kite I write
Never had half a fuckin' chance
My whole trial I was broke
Circumstantial that's bullshit
My defense was a joke
You go in a motherfuckin' courtroom
With a fuckin' public defender
The public defender works with the fuckin' D.A.
Motherfuckers ain't got no chance
You ain't got no money you're fucked, you're fucked
Now this cell is my residence
My address is The Row
24 hour lock down
When they'll kill me who knows?

Guilty, we the unfree
Dead men walking
Guilty, we the unfree
Dead men walking

I'm a genius from books now
Never read on the street
Never lifted a fuckin' weight
Now my boy's concrete
Filed a hundred appeals or more
No response from the state
Get no phone calls or visits
My mentality's hate
When I was on the street I had
Motherfuckin' boys, where's my bitch?
She won't even accept my fuckin' phone calls
Yo, they better not let me up out this motherfucka
You this shit's on, fuck that word
I get visits from doctors
Analyzing the ill
Families pray for my death now
Vengeance lays for the kill

Guilty, we the unfree
Dead men walking
Guilty, we the unfree
Dead men walking

Does the defendant have any final words
He would like to say to the court?
Yeah, I got somethin' I'd like to say
Yo, you, judge, you a racist motherfucker
I feel like bustin your motherfuckin'
No, let me go, I'm gonna kill everyone one of you jurors
If I ever get out of here, I'm comin' one by one
And blow your motherfuckin' brains out
You motherfuckers, no, keep your motherfuckin' hands off
Fuck that
So I think 'bout my past now
My future holds only pain
Involuntarily drugged by the state for years
Now I know I'm insane
When I'm moved shackled hands and feet
My skin's covered in ink
I read the bible 'bout twenty-five times
Now fuck gods how I think
You can save all that religious bullshit
Stay the fuck out of my cell
If that priest comes in my cell, I'm a bust him in the
I'll break your fuckin' neck with my bare hands, fuck that
So live your life to the fullest
But remember don't trip
One mistake you're my neighbor
And there's no one here rich

Guilty, we the unfree
Dead men walking
Guilty, we the unfree
Dead men walking

   

2 comentaris:

  1. Si Mozart aixequés el cap, s'hauria cardat un fart de riure veient com recopilatoris tipus "el piano maravilloso" o "las 20 mejores piezas de piano" inclouen aquesta horrorosa i cursilona peça, i a sobre la trobem tan fantàstica només perquè era seva. Si tingués un blog, ens diria imbècils a tots.

    ResponElimina
  2. Mozart?
    Qui collons són els MozART? Indies, hip-hop, breakcore?
    és igual,... en tot cas, tinc el convenciment ja fa molt de temps que tots aquells que es dediquen a les arts (sigui la que sigui) se n'enfoten de la resta; dels que viuen (vivim) del rellotge i pel rellotge.

    ResponElimina